


dancing is a dangerous game

by benditlikepress



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drunkenness, Episode: s09e24 Till Death Do Us Part, F/M, Slow Dancing, aka tony and ziva get drunk and sentimental at jimmy's wedding, it's been 9 years and still i complain that we were ROBBED, several thousand words all borne out of tony's reaction when ziva says elope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress
Summary: Jimmy and Breena's wedding provides opportunity for some drunken introspection.
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 26
Kudos: 70





	dancing is a dangerous game

**Author's Note:**

> title from cowboy like me <3  
> broadly set around a world in which Jimmy’s wedding happened at the end of s9 without any kind of bomb incident, and mildly AU further within that. essentially i stole a tiny bit of plot and then wrote a total reimagining of canon to suit my own tiva-related selfish desires  
> so many of my headcanons are on display here. special mention of Ziva's love of cheesy movies, which given her obsession with the sound of music and pirates of the carribean I claim as canon

“Sorry, man.”

“No problem. I’ll just-” Tony chuckled bitterly as the man continued walking without a look back at Tony’s soaked hand where the cocktail glass had been jolted when they’d bumped into each other.

Jimmy’s wedding had been a nice but long affair. The formalities were often lost on him, and they became stranger still depending on your closeness to the couple: Tony didn’t tend to realise how little he knew about a person until he attended their wedding. The ceremony and reception had been full of people he’d never even heard of until today, and though he’d sat with the rest of the team he couldn’t help but feel like an outsider.

Tony never minded being on his own usually, but attending weddings solo could be lonely the older he got. Work weddings were a little different, though, and the opportunity to see people outside of their comfort zones was never one he wanted to pass up.

He’d sat at the end of the aisle next to McGee at the ceremony, Ziva on the other side, and Tony had done his best to limit the amount of times he turned to look at her. He wasn't sure he'd quite achieved that mission, their eyes meeting several times as the vows were exchanged. 

It was as though there was something knowing between them, a grin in their eyes as they remembered their conversation about weddings in the office the other day. As the day turned into evening and the alcohol began to fog his edges, he was finding it harder and harder to pretend his focus was on anything else.

The day had been strangely long as weddings often could be – the couple of hours between the ceremony and the main reception stretching out as they sat in the gardens making small talk. He and Ziva had found themselves separated from the rest of the NCIS group at some point, talking to several members of Jimmy’s family.

He'd always enjoyed watching Ziva in a group from the outside. He’d always admired her abilities for diplomacy – no doubt drilled into her the second she was able to talk. It was interesting to him; the way she found herself able to blend into conversations with people he knew she had nothing in common with.

She was wearing a form-fitting blue dress that ended around her knees, and though it was the kind of outfit that would usually grab all of Tony's attention he had been distracted by her hair. Natural and curly, a change in a way that Ziva seemed to be hyper-aware of. He'd seen her touch it a couple of times throughout the day, subconsciously adjusting its appearance in a way someone tended to do when it was unfamiliar. Though it was more controlled and a little lighter in colour now, the sight of curls framing her face reminded Tony of when they met: clandestine observations in the rain and dangerous innuendos in the office. 

They’d been separated for some of the reception, finding themselves floating between different groups and being pulled into the kind of repetitive conversations you spent your entire night experiencing at weddings. Tony had glanced her a couple of times out of the corner of his eye - she'd ended up manhandling one of Breena's cousins, helping her aunt drag his drunken form up the stairs before it was barely 10pm. Tony had laughed at the spectacle, wondering how she ended up in the situation, and when he'd ducked in next to her to ask if she charged commission he'd earned himself a glare. 

He approached her now, mostly-full drinks in either hand. The people who’d been engaging her in conversation most recently had got up and moved onto the dancefloor and she’d caught his eye, frowning a little in question as he waited at the bar before joining her.

Ziva was checking her face and hair in a small mirror but looked a little bored rather than self-conscious, the action more something to do than anything else. Tony put a hand on her shoulder as he moved past her to stand in front of the adjacent seat and she put the mirror away again.

"I’m sorry, Miss, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to say how beautiful you look tonight. Anthony DiNozzo." He put her drink down on the table and held out his hand for her to shake. She scoffed.

“Charmed. Is this drink for me?”

“Of course.”

“In that case, you can keep me company, Mr DiNozzo. I am here with my partner but he has disappeared, last seen being cornered by several elderly women at the buffet table.”

Tony shuddered as he thought about the grilling he’d got from several of Jimmy’s relatives, who’d taken a shine to him for reasons unknown.

“I’m sure he’d rather be here with you, but his loss is my gain.” Tony finished with a grin as he drank a third of his drink in one, relaxing. “Besides, seems like you’ve had your hands busy over here acting as wedding security.”

"Your humour never fails to amaze.” Ziva bit back sarcastically. “Is this your way of sweetening me up?" 

"Nah. If I was gonna do that, I'd say you looked beautiful 24/7." 

"Are you saying I don't?" 

"I-" Tony felt a brief second of panic before he saw the tease on Ziva's face. "Don't think I won't take a compliment back, because I will." 

"Well, thank you. I am a match for you, then. Is that a new suit?" 

Tony flustered for a brief second in the implication of Ziva saying he looked beautiful, before recovering with bravado. "Of course. Who do you think I am? You, though. You could've made a little effort." Tony gave Ziva a playful look as he sat down, and predictably she rolled her eyes. 

"It is nice to see people dressed up. I am not sure I will ever get used to the sight of Gibbs in a suit." 

Tony followed Ziva's gaze over to the bar, where Gibbs was leaning heavily on the counter as he spoke to the barman over the music. Along the same line of sight, Jimmy and Breena were talking to a middle-aged couple. The back of Jimmy's shirt had grown a little crinkled throughout the day in a way that made Tony smile. 

He looked back at Ziva, not quite sure how to accurately summarise the strange wistfulness the day had forged in his head. Especially not with her bright eyes as focused on him as they were. 

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" 

"Jimmy is older than me." 

"No-one likes a show-off." Tony hummed. "Still, another eligible NCIS bachelor off the market." 

"Lucky that you and McGee are still standing strong in that department, yes?" 

"That's hurtful." 

"Is it not a good thing, to be the most eligible bachelor? There is an entire television show surrounding it." 

"I can't believe that you, Ziva David, are claiming something's true because TV told you it was."

"I admit, I have never watched it." 

"You shock me. You just wait until you find out about The Bachelorette."

“No, thank you. I have been to enough of those parties with women from my yoga class.”

“Given your love of alcohol and sexual innuendo, I would’ve thought that’s your dream night out.”

“Given _your_ love of both of those things, perhaps you should go in my place next time.”

“I’m good. The amount of bachelor parties I’ve gone to, figure I should share them around.”

Ziva smiled knowingly as conversation settled, and Tony considered to himself if the topic wasn’t a little sad. He watched Ziva as her expression was unreadable, wondering if she too was thinking about the fact that they were so often on the outside of those festivities looking in.

He couldn’t help but get nostalgic at events like this the older he got. He shuddered at himself for putting it into such a concise thought: the way he evaluated his own life by measures like that, as time ticked away. He wasn’t sure when he’d started putting serious thought into settling down, but with each year that passed it seemed to be creeping up on him more and more.

Even so, Tony had never spent much time entertaining ideas of his own wedding. Not even when he'd come close to having one, a long time ago. A dead mother and a mostly-absent father had left the family feel of a traditional wedding a little foreign and strange, though he supposed that was something Ziva could relate to more than most. 

Tony knew who it was he'd be envisioning walking down the aisle if he _did_ picture himself getting married. Maybe the reason he never had was to avoid having to confront what that meant. 

“What are you thinking about?” Ziva was the first to break the comfortable silence after a couple of minutes sipping their drinks, and Tony zoned back into the moment when he saw her appraising him with a frown. She was leaning back a little against her chair, creating a space between them that allowed her gaze to focus more intently.

“Weddings. Marriage.” She didn’t move to interrupt, eyes widening to invite him to continue. “Don’t get many of them at NCIS, huh?”

“I think Gibbs has used up our quota.”

Tony laughed and Ziva’s face brightened a little in a way that made him wonder if she’d made the joke just to elicit it.

“Yeah, maybe. That can be our excuse.”

“I was not aware that we needed one.”

“You saw that earlier when I got the third degree from grandma, right?”

Ziva chuckled. “I am not sure she meant anything by it.”

Tony expected to be asked questions about when he was going to get married by nosy family members and elderly acquaintances, but not by an aunt of Jimmy’s he’d not met five minutes before their conversation. “Next time, I’m sending them in McGee’s direction. He’ll be the first to get married out of us." 

"Do you think?" 

"You don't?" 

"I suppose so. He is the most well-adjusted." 

"I mean, outside of being a nerd he's probably pretty ordinary. Right?" 

Ziva went to reply and then stopped herself, amusement on her face as she drained the bottom of her glass. "You are speaking about him as though he is not a real person. Is this how you talk about me when I am not around?" 

"I never have reason to talk about you when you're not around." 

"Is that so?" 

"And on that note.. I'm gonna go get a refill. You want one?" 

"Please." Ziva nodded at Tony as he stood up, her fingers lazily brushing against his as she placed her empty glass into his hand. 

* * *

The path to the bar was blocked by tables and people milling around in the spare areas of floor. Tony, armed with glasses and a ringing in his ears from the music, managed to get halfway there before he barrelled straight into a tall blonde-haired woman wearing a figure-hugging green dress. She turned to look at him and an unexpected polite smile appeared on her face. 

"God, I'm sorry." 

"No problem. You must want a drink as badly as I do." 

Tony smiled back equally as politely as he let her order first before replenishing his and Ziva's supplies. At his side while he spoke, the woman's eyes kept flickering back to him. He coughed, uncomfortably. 

He feared he might be losing his touch a little, rusty from lack of practice due to reasons he was both too drunk and sober to get into involving the woman sat at the table several feet away. 

"Are you enjoying the party?" She broke the silence as she was handed her drink and Tony watched his start to be prepared. 

"Oh, yeah. It's been fun." 

It was dry, Tony knew, and he hadn't meant to sound so blunt, but the woman didn't seem perturbed. 

"I'm Michelle. Breena's cousin." 

"Nice to meet you. That your brother that had to get-" 

"That's not the first impression I ever want to make, but yeah. Families - you know how it is." 

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I know something about that." 

Back at the table, Jimmy had appeared and sat down in the chair Tony had just vacated. Tony and Jimmy had become good friends over the years in Tony’s mind, but he knew that the groom and Ziva had a closer relationship. He watched the two of them talk; Ziva’s eyes lit up by the spotlights as she laughed animatedly.

"So you work with Jimmy?"

Tony drew his eyes away from the scene and back to the conversation. "Uh-huh. Long time now." 

"And the girl you're with.." 

"Yeah, her too." Tony nodded as he handed over the money.

"I see. So the two of you aren’t here together?"

“Not together-together.” Tony’s attention got distracted again by the distinct sound of Ziva’s laugh across the busy room, and he turned to watch her feeling a buzz in his stomach. 

“In that case, you should come over and join us.” Michelle signalled to a table where a couple of women a similar age to herself were nudging each other knowingly and pulling a face at Michelle. Tony looked between them, and Michelle, and then his eyes fought to look back in the direction he was really interested in.

"I'm good. Thanks, though." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Have a good night." Tony's tone was polite and mature in his own head as he spoke, even as the reasons behind them were scattered and spontaneous. His eyes couldn't help but flick back to the table where Jimmy was standing back up and moving on, his hand on Ziva's shoulder being covered affectionately by her own. 

He picked up the two drinks that had been left on the bar and walked back over the table, thinking he might surprise Ziva by approaching over her shoulder. Predictably, she had a sixth sense to know he was coming.

“Took you long enough.”

“You didn’t give me a tip. I spat in it too.” Ziva tutted as she took the drink from his hand so he could sit down. Their chairs were a little closer together now, and Tony placed his arm along the backrest of hers. “What were you two talking about?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Seemed like you were having fun.”

Ziva smiled a little instinctively before taking a long drink from her fresh glass. “Yes, I am having fun.”

“You sound surprised.”

"Honestly, I was not kidding when I said I am not a big fan of weddings." 

"No?" 

"Do you ever find them.." Ziva trailed off and Tony frowned a little to encourage her. "Do you think they can be lonely?" 

Tony assessed the best response, watching Ziva as she searched his eyes for any attempt to hide what he really thought. “Sometimes. Depends who you’re with, right?”

"Yes, exactly. Oftentimes, I only know the bride or the groom. I find myself spending a lot of time avoiding the eyeline of the drunk uncle who is staring at my legs." 

"I'm sure you put them in their place." 

"Unfortunately, I am led to believe that headlocks are frowned upon at traditional ceremonies."

"Another black mark against the wedding column."

Ziva smiled again, a little wistfulness fading into it as she swiped her thumb along the condensation on her glass. "I think it is.." she paused and tipped her head. "I am not sure - maybe if it was something in my own future I would be more excited by the whole thing." 

Tony remembered the conversation they'd had a few months ago, when Ziva had in a down period with Ray proclaimed that she wasn't sure if she'd ever get married. Then, of course, she'd ended up getting proposed to a couple of days later. But the less said about that, the better. 

"You know it's dangerous when you say stuff like that." 

"Really? And why is that?"

"God forbid I have to reassure you." Tony took his own turn to rub at the rim of his beer bottle as he heard her chuckle. 

"That is really not necessary. I am not sure my life lends itself to the politics of weddings." 

"Bunch of assassins doing the electric slide?" 

"Keeping up appearances between people who have never seen face to face. Deciding who to invite would be more trouble than it is worth." 

"I'm sure your dad and I could get along for one day." 

“You are both famous for your diplomacy, yes?”

“Hey, most parents love me, I’ll have you know.”

“I can just imagine _all_ of the parents of the girls you have dated being taken in by you.” Ziva emphasised the ‘all’ as she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Is it me and you getting married in this scenario, or what?” Tony probed the leap she’d made.

“It is just an example. I am not sure he would readily accept that invite.”

It was a little sad of a thought, but Ziva seemed to move on from it quickly. She exhaled and lay her chin on her hand to support it, and Tony saw her eyes were glazing over ever so slightly. Her legs were crossed under the table, and her dangling foot brushed against his shin. 

“You a little tipsy?”

“I can handle my drink, Tony. Much better than you can.”

“Never said you couldn’t.”

“Maybe a little.”

As if to prove the point, it took Ziva's tongue a split second longer than it would a sober version of herself to find the end of her straw. Tony wouldn't have noticed were his eyes not drawn to the motion, and Ziva's own eyes filled with a smirk as she finished the end of her drink. 

"You ever been drunk in front of Gibbs?" 

"No. And I do not intend to start now." 

"Good call." Ziva straightened her back in her seat and Tony was momentarily distracted by the way she moved her limbs, easy and strangely elegant. "You're still the teacher’s pet." 

"Do you honestly believe that?" 

"Who is it, then?" 

"Abby." 

"That's like saying the math teachers' favourite student is the kid in AP history."

Ziva's smile was youthful and unabashed in a way that made Tony feel strangely sad in its rarity. "That is a good point." 

"All I'm saying is, he'd forgive you before he did me." 

"Why are our fates interconnected?" 

"Because it's us. If one of us messes up, ten dollars the other is involved." 

"I am not sure I accept that. You were getting into trouble long before I arrived. In fact, I have it on good authority that you have matured in recent years." 

"What, and you think that's because of you?" 

"You tell me." 

"Maybe I'm just growing up." Tony waggled his eyebrows and copied Ziva in taking a drink. She was halfway through hers - her talk of being able to hold her drink Tony already knew not to be an exaggeration. "When you’ve finished your drink, we could break the glass." 

Ziva turned to Tony with a perplexed smile. "Have you been on the Jewish wedding wikipedia page?" 

"I just know a lot of stuff. The ketubah." 

"I told you that." 

"The ketubah. The glass. The.. ceremony." Tony trailed off with a grin. "I'm learning, alright? Although if you don't plan on getting married.." 

"I never said that." 

“No?”

“I think I will get married. Or I hope so. I am not sure how likely or unlikely it is to happen.”

“Marriage yes, wedding no?”

“Big wedding, I do not think so. But I am not as picky about the whole idea as I seem to be painting for you.” Ziva chuckled to herself as she rolled her neck. Tony’s arm that was flung over the back of her chair was brushed by her hair. “What about you, Tony? Do you see yourself getting married?”

Tony had always found it interesting and a little contradictory that nights like this never put a strain on their relationship. There was something calm about it – a shared understanding between them, not very much room for awkward glances and silent questions.

“I mean, right now? Doesn’t seem likely. But in some far-off, abstract time… sure. I wanna get married. Not sure I used to think that, but I would.” She watched him for a moment, a flicker past her eyes that died again. “What?”

“No, nothing.”

“You were gonna make a joke about my age, weren’t you?”

Ziva supressed a smile with a raise of her eyebrows, sipping her drink through the previously-problematic straw. “No, not at all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t think I don’t know that look in your eye by now.”

He nudged Ziva's foot under the table and paused for a split second, waiting for the resistance as she pushed his back. 

“I would never make such a cheap joke. You are thinking of yourself.”

“Oh, of course. I’m the bad influence.” Their feet were still touching, and the connection seemed to seep into the conversation for a split second of silence before they both pulled away.

“I am glad we are finally in agreement.”

“But you _don’t_ think you’re the teacher’s pet?”

Before Ziva could argue, the conversation was interrupted by a sigh of tiredness as Abby approached them and sat down in one of the chairs across the other end of the table from them. 

"Speak of the devil." 

"You were talking about me?" 

"No, he is just teasing." Ziva gave Tony a look as she smiled. "You look like you are having fun." 

"Jimmy's family are great. Not that you guys would know, sitting with each other." 

"I've talked plenty. That blonde girl over there, green dress? That's Breena's cousin Michelle." 

Ziva and Abby followed his pointed finger. Ziva turned back with an eyeroll. 

"That doesn't count, Tony." 

"What? We got talking at the bar." 

"I am sure you did." Ziva's tone was dripping with the kind of unsubtle sarcasm that made Tony smirk. 

"Are you guys gonna dance at all?" Abby accentuated the final words. 

"We did. We both did." 

"Dancing hours ago with me doesn't count. Come on, you should get up there. It's a wedding. Even Tim's danced." 

Tony looked at Ziva, who rolled her eyes and replied with a conceding smile. "Perhaps in a little while."

“Whatever you say. I’m going to get another drink.” As quickly as she’d sat down, Abby disappeared again in a cloud of black lace.

“Do you think she _ever_ wears anything event appropriate?”

“I have it on good authority that those are her wedding platforms.” Ziva chuckled as she watched her leave. "Who're you planning on dancing with later?" Attention distracted, she turned back to him with raised eyebrows. "Oh, I see." 

"She told both of us we have to, I do not see why I should have to do it by myself." 

"I said no. You could've said no." His protestations were at best half-hearted as the idea fluttered between them, electricity threatening to build in the air. 

Tony didn't dislike dancing, particularly. It wasn't his best skill, sure, but he was passable. Less passable, though, was he and Ziva doing so in front of people they knew. It was a strange thought, given how much of their flirtation had been on constant public display since their first meeting, but the idea of slow dancing in front of McGee and especially Gibbs made him feel a little weird. Going the full three dimensions in a way maybe they were still trying to put into words.

"Why are you so reluctant? Usually you are the life and soul of the party." 

“Honestly, I’m not a great dancer. Especially when I’m drunk.”

“Really? You surprise me.”

“You think of me as a regular Fred Astaire, I can’t blame you for that.”

Tony turned to look at Ziva expecting her to roll her eyes, but instead was greeted by a view of her neck and chest as she stood up. His eyes followed her face as she now looked down at him, holding out her hand.

"Come. Dance."

"What?" 

"We cannot sit here all night wallowing in our old age. It is a wedding." Ziva wiggled her fingers. "It is expected." 

"Oh yeah, we've always cared about that." 

"It is Jimmy's special day, and you are sat there being grumpy." 

"Grumpy?" Tony took Ziva's hand regardless, realising he had no desire to actually say no. "You're the one who's just been talking about how much she hates weddings."

"I do not hate them." 

“You just want me to humiliate myself, then.”

“No.” There was a polished smile on her face. “I want to dance with you.”

Tony was 95% sure it was a ploy for him to put his money where his mouth is when it came to his lack of grace on the dancefloor. But it was the 5% of doubt, and the unexpected flicker of vulnerability in Ziva's eye after she said the words, that had him using her hand to pull himself up from his seat. 

Frank Sinatra was playing and there was a hazy nostalgia in the air, couples and children smiling and laughing in a way that made his legs fidget as they moved towards the centre of the throngs, obscuring themselves from view. 

Ziva’s hand twisted in his as she turned to face him, and his other hand went instinctively to the top of her hip. She leaned in, just a little, as their feet began to move, and neither of them seemingly wanted to be the first to look away. Their bodies entwined by music, Ziva’s leg tucked between his by their proximity.

He knew the alcohol was likely playing a part but he still felt intoxicated as they moved, Ziva's gaze on him heavy and bright-eyed. Tipsy things were bubbling behind Tony’s closed lips as he watched the lights dance across her eyes while they moved, and for want of anything else to say he took the opportunity to look away first.

At the other end of the dancefloor, Jimmy was spinning Breena under his arm. She was laughing with her mouth open as she moved underneath it, stopping to say something to a person sat behind them. Tony watched them for a moment as his eyeline circled, seeing Breena get pulled back into the moment by something whispered in her ear.

Ziva followed Tony's eyes to the couple. She smiled a little. 

"They have barely had a moment together all day. It is a shame, the way it works out." 

"I think most people sneak away for a little afternoon delight." 

He expected an eye roll, but got a chuckle. "I am talking about romance here, Tony. Purely innocent." 

"Purely."

Tony continued to watch Ziva as she, in turn, continued to watch Jimmy and Breena. There was an unfocused wistfulness about her gaze - taken and charmed. He wished he could see what she was thinking in that moment, watching the newly married couple absorbed in one another as they beamed. When she turned to look back at him, her eyes were radiating with warmth. 

The silence between them was intimate and heavy, the music seeming to get louder as Tony tuned out the voices around them. 

"So, what? You still wanna elope?"

"With you?"

It hadn't been what Tony meant, but he caught in the way Ziva's eyes widened a little in sincerity.

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Ziva's smile was uncertain and confused, her eyebrows furrowing in contradiction. "Are you being serious?"

"Sure I am. Why not?"

"Because.." She drifted off, confusion growing but mouth still turned upwards. "A million reasons, Tony. We cannot just.. elope. You are drunk."

"So we'll call a cab."

The serious tone in his voice mixed with the raised eyebrow tease made Ziva's cheeks flush. She tried to respond, but the words turned into a laugh. "You are.. you're an idiot."

Tony wasn’t sure how they’d got here, but the reaction it was creating in his own stomach as he watched Ziva uncharacteristically stumble over the semantics made him want to pursue it further. Jokes when he was drunk had a tendency of flittering along the line of truth in a way that tested his comfort zone. They’d slowed their movements on the dancefloor, almost frozen as they looked at each other.

“I’d have to be, right?”

The deprecation tempered the tension a little as Ziva’s smile turned from flustered to amused. “Yes, you probably would.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t ask.”

"We are expected at work on Monday, that may make our honeymoon a little more difficult." 

“We’re workaholics.” Tony explained away easily, and her eyebrows quirked as though planning something.

"What will Gibbs think?" 

"He's been married enough times, I'm sure he's eloped once or twice." 

"So we are going to Vegas? Like in the movie, yes?" 

"With Ashton Kutcher? Ziva, c'mon. You've watched 10 movies in your entire life and he's in almost all of them." 

"How did you know that is what I meant?" 

"What movie _did_ you mean, then?" 

“I could mean one of any. It is a trope, as I am sure you know.” She responded defensively, and her grip on his hand tightened.

“Don’t get all ‘tropes’ with me. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Who is there to fool?” Ziva’s eyes narrows as she spoke and for a moment Tony could swear time stopped, the second stretching out infinitely as he saw nothing but that look in her eye as she waited for him to accept the challenge.

Her hand was warm in his and the one on his shoulder moved a little, fingers stroking down his back as she twisted her wrist. Their bodies were pressed close together and Tony wondered if she could feel his heart hammering in his chest the longer she stared at him. The lights changed a little, dimming, but still neither of them looked away.

Tony fought back a hundred different urges, recoiling at the thought of eyes that might be on them, focusing solely on soaking up the moment until he was bought back to reality by Ziva’s foot colliding with his. She stumbled forward a little in adjustment, the small space between their bodies not allowing her to recover easily, and Tony moved his arms upwards to grab her.

"You alright?" Tony's arms were around her as she pressed against him and she looked up at him, faces now inches apart. "I'm cutting you off." 

"I am not drunk. I tripped." 

"I have that effect on people." Ziva rolled her eyes and Tony realised the two of them had stopped moving, frozen in place. "C'mon, let's sit down." 

"You just want to get out of dancing."

"If Abby sees us, fake a limp." She hit her arm across his chest as they moved off the dancefloor, hand lingering for a moment as she did so. 

Their table was mercifully still empty, and Tony took a long gulp from his drink as he sat down. Ziva pulled her chair further towards him, and rather than tucking their legs underneath the table they both copied the other in twisting to face each other. Their knees were touching as Ziva readjusted her dress, and when she noticed him watching she looked up to meet his eyes with a smile.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Oof, that is dangerous.” There was a pleasant tipsiness in her voice as she spoke now, unguarded and youthful.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You feeling alright?”

“I am fine, yes. I told you. I just lost my footing.”

“All that laughing probably didn’t help.” Her smile grew wider, reaching her teeth. "I'm trying hard to not be offended that you find the idea of marrying me so funny." 

"Tony, that is not... that idea is not ridiculous. _You_ are ridiculous. And drunk." 

“Try saying that again when you didn’t just nearly wipe out on the dancefloor.”

“That is not what happened. I was not looking where I was stepping.” The implication that they’d been too busy staring at each other stayed unspoken. Tony smiled, as far as they went acknowledging it, and Ziva held his gaze for a moment before clearing her throat and looking away.

"What did Breena's cousin want?" 

"Why do you wanna know?" 

"Just making conversation. She seemed very interested in talking to you." 

"You were watching?" 

"I was concerned you had got lost on your way to the bar." 

"Right. Sure. If I didn't know any better, I'd have said you sounded a little jealous." 

"Not at all. I think she can do better." 

"You know, you're probably right. Maybe I did her a favour turning her down." 

Ziva's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "Perhaps you did." 

“Not sure I, uh..” Tony paused as he felt a wave of the alcohol he’d just downed hit him. He felt a smile on his lips and it reflected in Ziva’s own face. “Not sure many people want to hear me talk about wedding politics and my philosophy on marriage on the big day.”

"You are not usually a sentimental drunk." 

"I'm not sentimental." 

"No?" 

"Just making conversation." 

"Is that why you proposed to me? To make conversation." 

The joke in Ziva's tone was unguarded in a way that had Tony's defences wobbling a little, but he clung to them just enough to smile with a tip of his head. "That one, I've gotta blame on the alcohol." A truth, technically. "And your reaction, too, obviously that was the alcohol laughing." 

"I guess you will never know for sure unless you try it again sober." 

"No?" 

"Are you willing to take that chance?" 

It was an absurd conversation but the slight squint in Ziva's eyes was arresting as the sentence clung in the air, the extended joke toeing the line further and further. Something clicked in Tony’s head as he flicked through the conversation – the idea that they’d spent the evening circling the idea of getting married. He laughed a little to himself, disbelief suspended, and felt Ziva’s gaze follow him inquisitively as he ducked his head.

Really, this is what it has been all been leading towards. The moment when the joke stopped, insecurities and doubts wrapped around humour coming unravelled until all that was left was the two of them looking at each other wondering how much further they were going to take it before they chickened out. 

“What are we talking about?” Tony eventually sighed with a smile, rubbing his eyes as he felt the edges of his brain buzz.

"Do you want to go outside?" Tony must have made an instinctual reaction to the words, because Ziva’s eyes widened a touch. “I think we both need some air.”

“Sure.”

Tony felt a little shaky when he stood but he knew he couldn't blame the alcohol as Ziva brushed heavily against him, leaning over him to grab her jacket. They walked quickly for reasons he wasn't sure of, as though they were swept up in something bigger than themselves. 

Tony put his hand on Ziva’s back as she walked ahead of him and he felt a jolt of heat as he did so. She looked back over his shoulder at him and he smiled, a little, as she slowed her pace to close the space between them until he could feel her presence on him as they moved.

A hand grabbed Tony’s shoulder and he turned back to find McGee looking at them, frowning at their determination.

"Where are you guys going?"

"Just outside. Or maybe Vegas? Not sure yet. We'll be back."

**Author's Note:**

> also inspired by cote saying all the eyesex in the berlin dance scene made her feel drunk 💘


End file.
